


Not Enough.

by muffler



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Bad attempt of describing depression, Break Up, I wrote this because I'm sad leave me, M/M, Two AM mind fuck, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 10:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21509713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muffler/pseuds/muffler
Summary: It's... Not like he's going to force Akira to be back to him. It's only his fault for not being a good boyfriend when he had him. And he shouldn't be so... Completely destroyed over it, when he was the one to fail in their relationship, right?Then, why can't he stop seeing him everywhere he looks at?|| aka Yusuke isn't good at getting over relationships, and specially not with Akira.
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Not Enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all  
> So, this is just something I wrote out of pure leisure since I have nothing to do, and I got suddenly sad, so I decided to give form to an idea I commented to a friend while walking around my city. It's kinda based on something I experienced, so, don't expect it to be too good, lmao  
> Well, hope you enjoy it, somehow
> 
> PD: Expect some OOC on this work, since I haven't played the game, and I don't actually know Akira or Yusuke too well. As I say, I just felt like writing this, sorry if I disappoint uu

Yet again, it was another rainy spring morning. He had seen them everyday since some weeks ago from now. And, although he very much appreciated the beauty in every single one of the four seasons and found almost all kinds of weather to be pleasant in their own way, he, this time as well as the past ones, couldn't quite see the point in looking from his dirty, old window to the large world that was presented to him in front of his tired, gray eyes cold as stone, just decorated by inelegant eyebags under them.

He didn't quite get the point in getting dressed, getting ready for the day, taking care of himself, even eating the little amounts of food he would normally have in order to spend less money on it. He also didn't turn on his phone for days straight, and if he did, he would just superficially swipe over the messages of concern the other Phantom Thieves gave him. Everyone had sent him at least one text the last time he looked.

Everyone, except...

Oh, that's why he didn't check his phone at all. Everytime he saw the last thing he ever told _him_ before that day, which was a simple phrase of "I love you", he would immediately turn his phone off again and throw it somewhere.

In any case, he sometimes didn't even gather the strength, or more like will, to get up his bed for whole hours. He felt... Letarged. Like he was sleeping while being conscious no matter what. Everyone, everything, anything and anyone felt like just a temporary dream. Even himself. Even his art.

Even _Kurusu Akira,_ for that case.

The black haired boy was such a unrealistic dream in his own, kind of rusty mind. Yet he still was a really painful reality to remember. He did exist, he did help him find himself, he... Made him feel like he had the whole world, because he, at some point, was everything to Yusuke. He couldn't have asked for anything more than that man, who he considered absolutely beautiful. He couldn't get enough of his unorganized curls, dark as the night sky, shining bright like the stars, so far away, yet he could just reach his hand and caress every single lock with extreme delicacy. The other's eyes possessed such a striking, penetrating color and such a piercing, careful gaze, it was stronger than any sword he had ever yielded in the Metaverse. Yet it turned tender, like a gray cat's soft fur whenever they were in private, threatening to melt him with the sweet sparkle around his irises. And his whole body reminded him of a clean, blank canvas, ready for him to take his paintbrushes and start stroking in order to create a masterpiece. Fair, pleasant to the sense of touch skin adorning lean muscle all over. And he didn't dare to describe other things on him he found unforgettable, or else he'd be reminscing all day long, and it'd be a crime, when it came to messing with Akira's privacy.

There was no way such a person could be real, but he was. He was, maybe, even more real than anyone could ever be. He was still human, after all. Even though his presence felt like a nice summer evening, he had thoughts, feelings, problems, pain... And he knew that since he met him in a more personal level. He had so much depth in him, he was sometimes worried he'd get lost inside of it.

And even though they both were so happy together, they swore devotion to each other, they demonstrated love in one of its purest forms...

Nothing lasts forever. And it was a fact nobody could change. Even art wasn't completely timeless. And it's honestly tragic that, even though he'd loved the man maybe even more than himself, he was capable of... Not feeling the same anymore. At some point, Akira started spending less time with him, he wouldn't read his texts anymore, whenever they were together everything would just end in an awkward silence, and everytime he was affectionate, the boy with glasses would just look away and make an excuse.

And Yusuke saw it all, and knew everything would end soon. He just couldn't concieve a life without him anymore, and profoundly refused to meet eyes with the truth.

Because of that, he broke down when the boy had them meet in a park on a February saturday, just to tell him he wanted to break up with him.

He didn't make any drama at first, only putting up a miniscule smile, accepting it in a seemingly mature way and wishing him the best of fates now that they had parted ways, and Akira said they would still be friends...

He couldn't go back to being friends. Not anymore.

And everything started when he went home to his empty, cold, broke down place. It was winter, but for some reason, it felt even colder than normal. Everything felt much colder than normal. So much he started trembling. And, the next thing he knew, tears were rolling down his face, his heart ached in a way he hadn't felt before, he was kneeled on the ground and... Akira was gone.

He was gone, and it was something he couldn't bare with. 

So, he enclosed himself from the outside world. His school, his friends...

And the only thing he found comfort in was in his art. Although it was affected by his situation, too. He always strived to create something he found beautiful, no matter what the source of inspiration was. But the thing was, _he was unable to find anything inspiring._ Anything, except, of course, the man who he thought looked like a whole angel walking on Earth.

And so, the only thing he painted, sketched and drew, was Kurusu Akira. And since that day, his house was filled with portraits of him from the memories he had, his notebooks were filled with the boy's face, and... His whole environment revolved around him. There wasn't a day were he wouldn't miss him and beg in his mind for him to come back. Everyday, he felt a deep sorrow because of it.

And, if he was to be completely honest, he felt like he was dead. If it wasn't because he breathed, had pulse and his heart beated, he'd think he was inside Purgatory, rotting away with unfinished business in his life.

He knew this wasn't the best course of action. But he couldn't bring himself to do anything else. His energy was long gone, and his will to live was... Very little too. But he wouldn't die, would he?

He didn't even have enough desire to die. All he wanted was Akira.

Akira, and nothing else.

Nothing else mattered anymore, anyways. _At least not enough to make him care._


End file.
